


On The Autumn Breeze [V1]

by C_Fantastico



Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: F/M, HMoAF, Missionary, Romance, greentext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28588695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_Fantastico/pseuds/C_Fantastico
Summary: You've been a D-class for much longer than most, and the Doctor has a special assignment. By all logic it shouldn't work. But when has logic gotten us anywhere?(This is the initial release of this story. After it, I had decided I wanted to push things in a slightly different direction with regards to genitalia. This is being published here for those who prefer it to be the way that it was.)





	On The Autumn Breeze [V1]

**Author's Note:**

> >Greentext is a format native to 4chan, a taiwanese basket weaving forum with certain tendencies that thankfully keep it out of the mainstream.  
> >Lines prefaced with a greater-than symbol without quotations are the thoughts of our protagonist. The events that unfold are presented purely in first-person, purely from his perspective, and purely as a stream of consciousness.  
> >Lines not prefaced with a greater-than symbol with quotations are spoken dialogue, from humans.  
> >Lines prefaced with a greater-than symbol with quotations are spoken dialogue from non-humans.  
> >If multiple characters are given dialogue in a scene, the type of quotation used shows which character is speaking. I have tried to make this as intuitive as possible, because nothing ruins the flow of a scene for me like the phrase "They Said."

>"D-7260"  
>It was the name they gave you when you got stuck here.  
>It's what you got for all the larceny, but it was never what you expected.  
>Apparently the rules governing reality aren't as set as you once believed.  
>That, or the police killed you and this is what the afterlife i-  
>"If you're done daydreaming, we need you to read this."  
>  
>Oh? Oh, right. Today's experiments.  
>Apparently only one subject today, let's see here...  
(You receive a couple of pages of notes, detailed http://www.scp-wiki.net/scp-2703 )  
>...Huh. Dial-a-date with a bird.  
>6 months ago you would have questioned the what.  
>But now the only question is  
"So what am I supposed to accomplish here, exactly?"  
>The man before you, Doctor N as you've come to know him flicks a switch on a wall.  
>"I will be frank while I have the opportunity. The foundation, while effective in containment, is not asking the right questions. Too many of our resources are spent-"  
"Don't you guys have funding from every government on Earth?"  
>"...Human resources. Time, effort, thought, spent simply on locking things in cages over finding out how they break from our rules."  
"You think this one will actually tell us how they're doing it?"  
>"They're our best shot at it. Little mental disturbance, relatively sociable, clear means of communication."  
>Essentially the most human, then.  
>"We'll start tomorrow, around 7 EST. Dress for the occasion. And-"  
"Could we begin earlier?"  
>He pauses. His expression turns to a look of subtle confusion.  
>"Why is that?"  
"I prefer to start these kinds of things with light conversation over coffee. Eases people into the mood, you know?'  
>"I hadn't considered it. If you can be prepared within the hour, we can begin soon. But you must be awar-"  
"This one seems to have a strong operatic tradition, we have a troupe, right?"  
>"Well yes, and they'll be ready tonight as they usually are, but I'm tryin-"  
"I'll need a suit."  
>"You'll get one!"  
>  
"Am I interrupting again? I'm sorry, what were you going to say?"  
>"You'll figure it out. Be ready by the hour."  
>Well then. This must be important, this is the first time I've seen one of these people emote.  
>No time for consideration, however. There's a date to be had.  
~  
>You've got everything.  
>Casual clothes, black suit with tie, flip phone to call the number, newspaper with the ad, foundation standard communicator.  
>All that's left is to make the call.  
"I'm ready."  
>"Go ahead, the area is clear."  
>Let's see here...  
>0927916975186  
>One hell of an input. Even the pretzel's got a format, but this just can't be reasoned.  
>The other line comes up blank.  
"Hello?"  
>  
>They hung up.  
>Oh well.  
>All that's left is to wait.  
~2 HOURS LATER~  
>Aaaand done.  
>You're honestly surprised this crossword hadn't been done before now.  
>Given the 4 years this paper's been held in the archives, among other things.  
~2 ADDITIONAL HOURS LATER~  
"They would've shown up by now, right Doctor?"  
>"Yes, but if you'd paid attention..."  
>Right, the report did mention a current "ladies only" requirement.  
"If you don't mind me asking, why did you choose me for-"  
>You cut yourself off when she appears.  
>Though she's branded 2703-1, the moment you see her, you know she needs a proper name.  
>She walks slowly to the table where you're sitting.  
>Her eyes watch her path, as if her mind is elsewhere entirely, and she sits across from you with little ceremony.  
"Hello."  
>'...Hello.'  
>  
>Wow, home run you idiot.  
"Do you have a name you'd wish to go by?"  
>She pauses, sighs heavily, and breaks into a clear routine.  
>'I am the Countess of Folas, the Duchess of Fatyma, and Marquisette of Dispria,' her posture slumps, 'but you may call me whatever you please.'  
>"This obviously isn't going anywhere, send them home."  
>While the doctors orders have been given, you get the feeling there's a touch more than meets the eye here.  
"...Is there something wrong?"  
>'Nothing,' she replies. She crosses her wings, 'let's just get this over with, shall we?'  
>Just as you'd thought. Everything is wrong.  
"Look, it's obvious that you want nothing to do with me, or any of this, right now. But from what you've said, it's clear this is part of a larger song and dance. I'm not going to force you into the full 'performer mode,' but I do want to know what's got you down. Bottling up your emotions isn't healthy, for anyone."  
>'Why do you care? You're just another man, looking for a show.'  
"I can't help it. I look into your eyes and see where once the spark of life has shown, now there is naught but sorrow. Nobody deserves to live like that."  
>You notice a tear at the corner of your left eye. As she looks up at you, you can see a change in expression. Exasperation becomes the exhaustion with life you've seen many times before.  
>'...It all started a year ago.'  
>You order two cups of coffee, decaf.  
>'I used to get people from all walks of life, but then they stopped calling. Then, a man who did was absolutely terrified by my visage. I thought I'd never be able to sing in this town again. Women seemed to be more relaxed, but the calls slowly stopped coming in.'  
>"It's a side effect of containment. We can't just let them do what they do, it'd cause a stir, at best."  
>'Tell me, do I frighten you? Horrify you?'  
>You walk to her side and caress her feathered head.  
"The only thing I'm afraid of now is that you'll vanish before I can see who you truly are."  
>A lone tear sits at the corner of her eye.  
~  
>The coffee comes in a pair of mugs, cream on the side, and a pair of biscuits. They're definitely fresh.  
>It pays to know the city.  
"Thank you."  
>'What's this?'  
"The elixir of life, the brew that saved a nation. This, is coffee."  
>As you sip, you notice your date for the evening's... hair? grabbing the mug.  
>Right, no hands. I guess that's what the tentacles are for.  
>'It's somewhat bitter.'  
"Here."  
>You temper it with some of the cream the waiter brought, and a bit of sugar.  
>Luckily, they had browns. Again, it pays to know the city.  
>'Thank you.'  
>As you enjoy your mid-afternoon snack, you hear your earpiece shoot up.  
>"So just what was all of that?"  
>You give the signal for "Under control." Though, most of that was unplanned. C'est la vie.  
>The way you see it, she's been at the beck and call of others for most of her life. It's time she had a choice in the matter.  
>'So, mister...'  
"Anthony. Anthony Tobble."  
>'Where are we headed?'  
"I should be the one asking you that, actually."  
>'That's not how this usually goes...' As she trails off, you see the gears turn in her head, wondering what she'd actually do given the choice.  
"Well it's a lovely day out. Maybe we should walk the city for now, and stop when you see something interesting."  
>'That would be lovely.'  
>You open the patio gate.  
"Come on, Eliza! We've got a city to paint!"  
>'Eliza?'  
>You halt, realizing what you'd said.  
"It's in the cadence of your voice."  
>'...Eliza. It's perfect.'  
~  
>You walk together through downtown.  
>Nobody seems to bat an eye at the fact that you're escorting a giant, tentacled bird through a British shopping district.  
>Or at her way of walking. It's an intricate dance between her three legs, sometimes crossing to maintain balance.  
"Do you live around here?"  
>'Not exactly. It's basically the same kind of city, but it's all us, rather than you.'  
"How'd you find your way here then?"  
>'Honestly, I've never been sure. I first came here when I was very young, actually, into the opera house. It was a lovely production. I spent that night flying above the city, wishing to return with the songs I'd heard.'  
"So it's uncontrolled?"  
>'Used to be. Then I started getting the calls. I'm not even sure how anybody got my number.'  
"That, I can explain."  
>You pull the newspaper out of your suitcase, ensuring nobody is looking over your shoulder.  
>'...Who printed this?'  
"We're not honestly sure, but I've seen it online before."  
>'...Huh.'  
>You notice her stop in front of one of the clothing stores.  
>Though, it is more of a boutique, with custom fittings and classical styles.  
>'This seems interesting. I wonder if they'd have anything that would fit.'  
"Let's head in. Fortune favors the bold, after all."  
>A silver chime rings as you open the door for Eliza. A young woman at the counter greets you.  
>"Welcome! If you see anything you like, just let us know!"  
>'Thank you.'  
>You spend about half an hour looking for anything that works with her unique physiology. All the sleeves aren't cut for her, in fac-  
>Yes.  
"Eliza, come look at these."  
>As you call her over, you see her eyes light up a bit.  
>A ruby red cloak with a golden thread filigree. Thick enough to be useful in the winter, and exceptionally soft on the inside.  
>A couple of weights hang on the front, a chain linking them, but by the construction you can tell it's just for show.  
>'I have to say, you've got quite the eye for this sort of thing!'  
"Call it a talent."  
>You go to pay for her cute new cloak when the clerk informs you "It's been taken care of," as she counts the bills in her hand.  
>You look over at Eliza with a curious look. She shrugs.  
>You step out together into the cool afternoon air. An Autumn breeze passes by, carrying a hint of winter's breath with it.  
>You walk together towards the theatre district, stepping in time to the rhythm of the season.  
>'You know, you've asked a lot about me, but haven't said a word about yourself.'  
"Suppose I haven't exactly done myself any justice."  
>You go in to your life's story.  
>Grew up in Bristol, average kid, excelled in maths.  
>By 16 you'd gotten a part time job, earning a pound here or there.  
>She chimes in from time to time with her own experiences.  
>A world with flight tends to have taller structures, it seems.  
>You sell your more recent "adventures" (before imprisonment) as robin hood styled ventures.  
>And in truth, some were about knocking the corrupt down. Granted, you kept most of earnings.  
>She talks about the cultural crossings that came about of her cross-dimensional travels as you arrive at a local theatre.  
>A well made poster sits out front, "Castlevania: The Musical."  
>Of course they're not that corny with it. It's actually just titled "Symphony of the Night," and promises to be a retelling of the original Dracula mythos.  
>You're a little surprised nobody from the foundation has tried to investigate that old Transylvanian manor, but then, fiction tends to be just that.  
>'...Dracula?'  
"It's one of our older traditions. Despite being focused on a mythical vampire based off of a true historic figure, many critics have seen it as an introspective look at the nature of man."  
>'That being?'  
"Depends on who you ask. Focus on the Count and you'll see cruelty. Focus on those who face him and you'll see true bravery."  
>'...Hm. Do you know when it's starting?'  
>You check your watch.  
"Tonight's main performance starts in about an hour. Anything you want to do until then?"  
>'There is one spot I'd like to check.'  
"And where is-"  
>You blink, and find yourself in front of...  
>A toy store? How did this get there.  
>You check your watch. It's still an hour until dusk. This must have been one of her tricks. The article did mention teleportation.  
>'Come on!'  
>You head inside, wondering just what she'll find here.  
>Towards the back of the shop, a display is showing off some yo-yos.  
>Traditional style, expert craftsmanship.  
>You pick one up and give it a throw.  
>The weight is perfect.  
>'Can I give it a whirl?'  
"Sure thing"  
>As you go to hand it to her, she balances on two of her legs, holding the third up to take the yo-yo from you.  
"It's all in the joint. You want to flick it out, and then flick it back to pull it up."  
>She throws it straight down. Rookie mistake.  
>'Isn't it supposed to spin?'  
"You have to give it the first turn."  
>She throws it forward, letting the friction of her talon spin the toy.  
>It comes to rest at the end of the string. A perfect spin. It's mesmerizing.  
>You both look back to each other simultaneously.  
>You spend a minute in her eyes, and her in yours.  
>60 seconds could be an eternity for all you care.  
>When you finally blink, you say the first thing that comes to mind.  
"It really brings out the gold in your eyes."  
>'What?'  
"Your smile."  
>She looks away, but begins to grin in the way only she can.  
>She looks back, steps forward, and pulls you into a deep embrace.  
>You wrap your arms around her, and press your cheek against hers.  
>This moment, just you and her, is all you wanted.  
~  
>When you finally pull away from her embrace, you think to check your watch.  
"The show's starting in twenty minutes, we should probably head back an-"  
>Right, the teleporting.  
>'Saves on travel time. Annnd I may have forgotten where exactly we were.'  
"Whatever works for you, works for me. I need to change outfits, I'll be back in a minute."  
>'I'll be here.'  
>You head into the lavatory to switch into your suit.  
>In the meantime, you re-open your communicator line.  
"Hey doc, people have been pretty calm about this whole thing."  
>"Expecting more of a reaction?"  
"Yes. What gives?"  
>"I made sure the whole city was dosed with a preventative amnestic. Most people have a tendency to self-censor the stranger side of the world, this just turns that reaction up to 10."  
"So everyone's just acting on their routine?"  
>"More or less. It's the best way to get around the usual testing restrictions."  
"How often is something like this administered?"  
>"...The official stance is 'Only for open air testing'."  
"Good to know. Anyways, I'm shutting you back off. No sense in missing the show. Over and out."  
>Hell yeah, matte black.  
>Some things just have a tendency to come through for you.  
>Alright, showtime.  
>'Well, you're looking dapper.'  
"Thank you," You say as you give a quick spin. "Black will always be the new black. We should head in, and find seats."  
>As you head in, you hear the band practicing and the low roar of a hundred conversations.  
>You find the perfect spot, central, 5th row. Not so close you're craning your neck, but close enough to see the performers expressions.  
>'Anthony.'  
"Yes?"  
>She leans into you.  
>'I'm glad I came out today.'  
>You lean into her.  
"So am I."  
>The lights dim, and the story begins.  
>As most of these tales do, with Vlad the Impaler.  
>You wrap an arm around Eliza.  
>The first act seems to focus on the historic background that inspired the original count.  
>Things turn to fiction as Vlad begins drinking people.  
>While it's tastefully done in silhouette, you still feel Eliza begin to shake.  
>You pull the armrest between you up, and pull her just a bit closer.  
"I'm here," you whisper.  
>She wraps a wing around you, almost instinctually.  
>The rest of the act seems to play out with well choreographed combat.  
>Someone manages to impale the Impaler, and everything seems to quiet down.  
>During the short intermission, Eliza looks back to you, holding back tears.  
>You pull her into a deep embrace.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize it would be so-"  
>'How are they so brave?' She chokes a bit on her words.  
"...Humanity can do impossible things. For the mere thrill of it, for a sense of purpose, for the ones they love."  
>You spend the rest of the intermission together, you stroking her feathers, and her lightly sobbing.  
"We don't have to see the rest of this if you don't want to."  
>'No, it's... I do. This style is just all so new to me, and... and...'  
"I understand. It's hard even thinking about this kind of cruelty, even in fiction."  
>'...I just want to be close to you.'  
>  
>Did she just  
>And  
>You feel yourself blushing.  
>You give her a quick kiss on the beak, as the lights go back down, and the curtain pulls back.  
>The second act begins in a setting a touch more familiar.  
>The set seems split in two, the left half features an actor reading a letter.  
>It sounds as if it's from the count.  
>As the lights switch sides  
>Oh my fuck.  
>The absolute madmen actually did it.  
>The costume took some clear "inspiration" from Dracula's representation in Rondo of Blood.  
>It's a shame they didn't go for the voice, as well.  
>No perfect things in this imperfect world.  
>They flip back and forth between the two scenes.  
>The Englishman reading Dracula's cynical perspective on the period's culture, and the Count reading the ambassador's idealist remarks.  
>This is the kind of juxtaposition you were hoping for with this play.  
>You notice Eliza's tentacles draped over your shoulder.  
>They're warm which, while you didn't exactly expect that, is quite nice.  
>The act comes to a close with a formal invitation to Castle Dracula, which anyone should recognize as a threat.  
>The curtains close for the second intermission, and again you find yourself wanting nothing more than to be where you are.  
>The intermission is shorter than expected, as the curtains pull back to reveal a classic scene.  
>A fogged path leading up to the fortress, lit only by the light of the full moon.  
>The one walking up is dressed a bit more ostentatiously, and has a distinct white hair.  
>...It is at this point you wonder whether or not Konami licensed any of this.  
>'That's not the same character from earlier.'  
"No, that's... well I'll let him explain."  
>As the true man of the hour, Alucard, begins to opine on his condition, he is cut short by a familiar face.  
>It seems the ambassador has been made into a thrall.  
>And cut short.  
>This production has had excellent practical effects throughout.  
>As Alucard steps through to the throne room, Dracula reveals the parental twist.  
(And if any of you haven't yet, go fucking play Symphony of the Night. PSXe may largely be shit, but where it works, it fucking works.)  
>Alucard gives a speech about the kindness of man, and the beauties of the world.  
>Dracula responds with a darker view, ending on the only line worth remembering.  
>"What is a man? A miserable little pile of secrets. But enough talk, have at you!"  
>These sword fights are still insanely well choreographed.  
>It seems most of the budget went towards thrilling the audience.  
>Seems odd, but when it comes from an artist's vision, not much you can say.  
>The band comes to a crescendo as the Count comes to his end.  
>There's a final short exchange between father and son.  
>"Do you hate me?" the vampire king whispers.  
>"...I pity you." the crown prince retorts.  
>As Alucard walks away and the scene transitions back to the outside, they take the classic ending, of castle dracula falling apart in the background.  
>The model here is quite well done.  
>As the cast comes back for a bow, roaring applause breaks out throughout the theatre.  
"Bravo! Bravissimo!"  
>'You were all wonderful!'  
~  
"I wasn't expecting so many nods to the Castlevania series.  
>'The what now?'  
"It's a video game. Honestly it's not worth worrying about."  
>You feel a pang of hunger, and hear another.  
"We should find somewhere to eat."  
>'...Okay, but I still want to know about the Castlevania.'  
>You wonder if they even have video games where she's from.  
>As you walk in the crisp night air, tucked in her wing and arm around her shoulder, you can't help your smile.  
>You arrive at your destination, a little pub in the northern part of the city.  
>'You know, I've never really walked the city streets before.'  
"I find it helps calm the mind."  
>As you sit at a table you order a stout, and she asks for a glass of wine.  
>'So, before it leaves the mind, what's this Castlevania all about?'  
"It's a tale of grand destiny, man's folly, and inhumanity given form..."  
>As you talk, you focus primarily on major plot points and theming, as well as the general gothic style in which things are presented.  
>She chimes in now and again with reference to classic literature where these themes formed.  
>As you drink, eat, and be merry conversation turns to the human condition, fate, and so forth, carrying into the night.  
>Her laugh is infectious.  
"It's getting late, wouldn't you say?"  
>'Of course, I can head back if you'd-'  
"We should get a hotel room. I know a nice little spot with just the softest sheets you've ever felt."  
>'Really? Sure, lead the way.'  
>The tab is paid in it's mysterious fashion, and you walk into the night, not missing a beat.  
>You couldn't care less about the chill in the air right now.  
>The streetlights keep the path bright, but it's your partner that keeps it warm.  
>As you enter the hotel, there's a feeling of deep warmth.  
>You ask the man at the counter for a room.  
>You take your key and your girl in hand, and stumble up a flight of stairs to your room.  
>It's got a single full bed, a nightstand, an attached bathroom suite, and a small kitchenette.  
>As soon as you get in, she flops onto the bed, and bursts out laughing again.  
"Stop it! I need to breathe!"  
>'I can't!'  
>You fall into the bed with her, laughing at the absurdity of it all.  
"How did a thief like me steal a gal like you?"  
>'You called the right number. You were right about the sheets, by the way.'  
"What can I say, I have a taste for the finer things."  
>You go into the bathroom to slip into something more comfortable.  
>Thankfully the wire you've had to wear all day was embedded in the undershirt, so no fiddling there.  
>You come out in your boxers, and turn the heater on.  
>As you sit next to Eliza, you wrap your arm around her.  
"I had a really good time today Eliza."  
>'So did I. It's really been a while since I've just been happy like this.'  
>You kiss her on the beak.  
"I think I love you."  
>She imitates your motion, cupping her beak around your lips.  
>'It's not about what you think, say what you feel.'  
>You go back to kissing her in her strange way, your tongues overlapping in an intricate dance.  
>Her hard beak feels interesting on your lips, an extreme feeling in very specific spots.  
>You take initiative, fondling her breasts.  
>Her feathers tickle at your hands, with a subtle warmth you hadn't expected.  
>You begin, kneading and pressing upon her delicate C cups, the lack of nipples subtly saddening you.  
>Regardless, you move your ministrations lower, somewhere you might get a reaction.  
>As you move over the stomach, you feel a giggle from your favorite bird. You'll note this for later.  
>Your boner begins to grow, you find her tentacles pulling off your boxers.  
>She throws them across the room, and slides two of her tentacles across your dick.  
>Her tentacles stroke up and down, in a slow rhythm, teasing at the head.  
>You find her vagina and, with little ceremony or trouble, push your fingers within.  
>You break for just an instance, just to hear her reaction to everything.  
>It's the quietest whistling you can hear, as she grins from cheek to cheek.  
>You push against her walls, and the whistling heightens.  
>She has an interesting internal texture, a subtle rippling throughout.  
>You pay a little extra attention to her clitoris with your thumb.  
>As the two of you break away again, she lets out a moan that would put most singers to shame.  
>You stare into eachothers' eyes for just a moment.  
>You put your arms around Eliza and thrust into her.  
>She lets a peep escape from the surprise, urging you to continue.  
>Each thrust elicits a small breath from your partner, as you struggle to keep self control.  
>Her muscles rhythmically pulse in time with your motion.  
>Your breathing gets heavier as your thrusts travel deeper, and faster.  
>Her tentacles seem to curl in, as she lets out a high C. She's close, and you can feel it.  
>You pull out, and in one fell swoop slam in, balls deep.  
>As you hammer away, you feel Eliza tighten.  
>'Let go with me!'  
>You oblige, finally letting out your own lewd grunting, and your own cum.  
>You feel the bed shake as she reaches her own orgasm, using her wings to hold you close.  
>Her muscles keep pulsing, milking you, begging for every last drop.  
"Eliza?"  
>'Mmmm?'  
"I love you."  
~  
>You're the first up.  
>You fell asleep in Eliza's wings, a subtle smile still on her face.  
>As you get up, you stretch, and check to remember what amenities this place has.  
>There's a tray of scones sitting on the tea table, with a couple of bags of tea.  
>You plug in the kettle to heat as you hear Eliza begin to awaken.  
"Good morning."  
>She yawns, stretching out to her full wingspan.  
>'Morning. They brought up breakfast?'  
"Seems so, darling."  
>The kettle comes to a boil, and you pour the water to steep the tea, grabbing a scone.  
>'Last night was wonderful, love.'  
"I can only say the same, my dear."  
>As you enjoy your breakfast, you feel a slight twinge of guilt. There's something you need to tell her, but it'll take a second of fiddling to get the right circumstance.  
>You bring your shirt over to the kitchen. Every standard foundation radio has a solar charger, in case of emergency.  
>What they don't realize is that this same preparedness provides a simple opportunity.  
>You coil it's cable around the broadcast chip, and place the cell underneath a lamp.  
>As you walk into the kitchen with the tea in hand, you see the subtle smile of a lover. You hate to break this moment, but she needs to know.  
"There's something important I need to tell you."  
>'Oh? What's that?'  
"I know why the calls stopped coming in."  
>Her expression turns serious.  
"I'm currently working with the Foundation, an organization that attempts to safeguard the public understanding of reality. They seek out things that seem to break from our physical" you take the time to put air quotes around "laws, and, as the motto goes, Secure, Contain, and Protect."  
>'What do you mean, break your laws?'  
"Go against what is commonly understood to be 'real'. There's this plum tree that grows in anything, and real plum trees only grow in dirt, as one example."  
>'...Are they... containing me?'  
"...That's what makes it so hard to say."  
>'Why? I've done nothing wrong. Hell I've been kind and courteous to everyone.'  
"To them, ads appearing in papers and on walls that nobody had written, displaying phone numbers that nobody reserved, calling some person from beyond our blue ball defies 'reality'."  
>'Why are you telling me this?'  
"Honesty is the best policy, and you deserve to know."  
>'...why would they let you call?'  
"In the past, it was to study behaviors and understand intent. Now, it was to learn a bit more directly from you why things happen the way that they do."  
>'So was last night... real? Do you... really love me?'  
>She looks down, on the verge of heartbreak. You place a hand beneath her chin, and lift her eyes back to meet yours. With a gentle smile, you tell her  
"There's nothing I could do."  
>'Pardon?'  
"I could write a thousand poems, and not one would capture our feeling. I could paint you a thousand times, but it would never match your meaning. I could write your name in the stars as we sang across the galaxy, and it still wouldn't measure to how much I love you. And I will always love you, for as long as the stars may shine."  
>You pull her in to a long kiss. It's the only thing that says what you want.  
>As you go to break, her tentacles grasp your head and pull you down to meet hers. You put your arms around her, and share this moment fully.  
>'I love you, Anthony. More than anything.'  
"I love you too, Eliza."  
~  
>'Since you've told me your secret, I feel like I should tell you more about how this all happens. The interest of transparency, and all that.'  
>'It all started a few years back. There was this advertising agency that promised "Coverage out of this world! First ad free." Who wouldn't try it?"  
>'I put out a very simple personal ad. "For a good time call."'  
"Does that carry the same connotation back home as it does here?"  
>'It's a lot more innocent back there. Your world is really odd about sex, in general.'  
"Buncha prudes in the dark ages set the rules. We're getting close to breaking out from it, but it's coming with a lot of societal costs."  
>'Anyway, the company had it's assets seized and liquidized 6 months into operation. I wanted to stop the publishing a couple of years back, but that rabbit hole was sealed shut.'  
"But the calls kept coming?"  
>'Slowly, but yes. They all wanted me to go to the same places, too.'  
"Odd."  
>You give a quick hand signal, which she recognizes as "Interference."  
>'I thought as much. The way I see it, they managed to somehow "imprint" this ad on to your world.'  
"That's kind of incredible, actually. It is a bit strange, how it stays around though."  
>'That may just be it. It's not like they have employees to send out and republish.'  
"So it's less of a limited run and more of a permanent mark. Must save on material in the long run."  
>'Leads to odd consequences.'  
>You nod. Despite the gravity of the conversation, you can't help but smile when you look at her. And when she looks back up, she can't help but smile either. You share so little, and yet so-  
>*BRRRING*  
>...Who would call a hotel room?  
"Hello?"  
>"This is the concierge, calling to remind you that check-out is in an hour."  
"Oh. Thank you."  
>'Who was that?'  
"Hotel staff, we have an hour before they charge us for another night. We should go anyway, there's a nice park just out of town, 20 or so minutes away."  
>'That sounds really nice. Most people just want the nightlife, it would be great to just get outdoors.'  
>You get dressed, and take your favorite girl out for a stroll.  
>The city streets are quiet on this late morning. You walk with a hand around Eliza's shoulder, fingers interlocking with her tentacles.  
>You get to the park, find a spot by the pond, and sit down.  
>'...Can I ask you something?'  
"Anything. Shoot."  
>'...When will I see you again?'  
"I can't guarantee a when, but I would do anything, just for the chance to be with you once more."  
>'...That's all I wanted to hear.'  
>A tear falls from her face, as you pull her closer and wipe it away.  
>You sit together, letting the cascade of the landscape sing it's own song.  
>'You were the first one to get my name right.'  
"Really? Didn't you ever tell anyone?"  
>'...I thought it might help if people could call me whatever they wanted.'  
"Most people would rather know your name."  
>You hear Eliza hum a soft melody. It's an old peice, but you think you can remember the refrain.  
>Your baritone matches her mezzo-soprano perfectly.  
>'I didn't know you sang.'  
"Did, once. Lost the inspiration."  
>'Maybe I could be yours.'  
"...You already are."  
>'...Unfortunately, my time is up, for now. But, there is one thing I must do, before I go.'  
>She begins to sing. You can't place the melody, but it's sweet with a tinge of sorrow. A farewell should be such a song.  
>The words come easily, and you find that the backing comes simply.  
>You sing in unison  
'Parting is such sweet sorrow~'  
>A subtle light surrounds her figure as she says  
>'This will not be the end.'  
"Not on my life."  
>And with a flash, she's gone.  
~  
>The doctor lets you into his office, and flips the same switch he did last time.  
>"So there are a few things I want explained. First, what was that speech at the beginning?"  
"The truth. It's in the transcripts, you know how it goes."  
>"Second. Did you actually-"  
"Yes and that is all that needs to be said on the matter."  
>"...They will ask for the report."  
"...She was an expert in using her unique appendages. Otherwise fairly vanilla. I will submit to a light medical screening, if requested."  
>"It is requested. And finally, there were about 20 minutes where the communincator couldn't be reached. Care to explain?"  
"I'm assuming you didn't want to be out of a job."  
>"...What."  
"And I made the assumption that directly telling our subject about the nature of her containment and experimentation would have affected that."  
>"Wh-"  
"AND I'm willing to bet that if those details made it into the audio report to be submitted without you having the chance to make a minor clerical edit, you'd still be discovered performing covert procedures in an unsafe environment."  
>For once, Doctor N seems speechless. Because he knows. But he doesn't know  
>"Why?"  
"She deserves to know."  
>"...I'll include it in the report. If the cat's out of the bag, they'd find out eventually."  
"If they ever tested again. Speaking of-"  
>"I'll arrange for another outing in to occur 4 days. There are too many questions left unanswered."  
>  
"Excellent. Now, I have a pair of questions, if I may be so bold."  
>"...Go ahead."  
"Did you manage to drug an entire city?"  
>"It's a secret to everybody."  
"And finally... why did you choose me?  
>"Nothing but a hunch. Head back to your cell, you've got a lot on your plate tomorrow."  
"Nothing that can't be done doctor."  
>Well, that went well. I should see if we have any sheet music laying about, I'm going to need material for the next call.

**Author's Note:**

> Bizhawk is the better PS1 emulator nowadays.


End file.
